Dreams are for Real
by yellowlabluvr
Summary: Buckle up kids, we're going on a feels trip. A special day of the year when Dean remembers someone he lost.


Dreams are for Real

Rummaging through the trunk, he couldn't find the weapon he was looking for.

"Hey!" he called over his shoulder. "Where the hell is my silver knife?"

"Where you left it, in the front seat," the voice answered.

He frowned. Since when did he leave knives out in the open? Closing the trunk up, he went around to the front and sure enough, there it was. Taking it and looking it over, his fingers drifted over the initials carved in the hilt. D.W. Dean Winchester. He never went anywhere without this thing. It had gotten him out of several close calls.

"Are you ready YET?" he called. "What are you even doing in there?"

She came out, duffle slung over one shoulder.

"Nothing you need to know about." Jo said, tossing her back in the backseat. "So are we gonna go get this shifter or what?"

Rolling his eyes, he slid into the driver's seat of the Impala. This was typical Jo. Make them late and then get impatient with HIM. She slid into the other side, he turned the car on and they hit the road. This shifter they were after was a sneaky one. It moved fast and changed it's skin even faster. It was a few hours drive to the next town, where they expected the shifter to show up. It had been fairly predictable. All it wanted was gold. Not cash, not jewels. Gold. He joked about it being part dragon once, and she'd rolled her eyes.

"So, it doesn't live in the sewers. It finds someone with a nice enough house and becomes them, right?"

Dean nodded.

"So how are we supposed to find who it's targeting next?"

"I had Sam looking into that. He should be calling us soon to let us know who's the most loaded. Once we know that, we can stake out the house and grab the slime ball before it changes."

Jo nodded and began reading through the articles again. She fell asleep at some point during the drive. Dean sighed, happy. This life they'd built… It was better than he could ever have dreamed. He'd always wanted a family, but it wasn't really in the cards for a hunter. That was, until he met Jo. Now he got to have a family and still help people. They made a great team. Sometimes it was hard working with her, always being worried she would be hurt or killed. But he wouldn't trade a single moment of it for anything. This was his life and for once, he actually loved it. The phone rang and she answered it quickly. After a few moments, she put it on speaker.

"What did you find, Sam?" he asked.

"A lot, actually. But you're looking for someone on the corner of Third and Washington."

Jo took quick notes while Dean focused on the street signs. They were close. One or two insane turns later, and they found the house. It was easy to spot. Huge gates, big pillars in the front, stained glass windows. Before the car was even in park, Jo was throwing the door open. They both ran up to the house and she slammed her hand into the buzzer. No answer.

"Dammit!" Dean yelled, looking for a way around the gate.

"Give me a boost!" Jo yelled.

Shoving his knife into it's leather pouch on his belt, he laced his hands together. This was something they'd done a thousand times before. With her small size, it was easy to launch her over a fence or into a smaller space. It came in handy in a hunt.

"1… 2… 3!"

He hefted her up and over. Landing on her feet, she hit the button on the other side to open the gate. She was already halfway down the drive. She might be small, but she could run when she wanted to. Pounding on the door, Jo called out for whoever owned the house. Still no answer.

"Dammit!" Dean repeated.

She rolled her eyes and moved back so that he could kick the door in. Once inside, they both drew their knives and stalked through the house silently. A moan sounded from upstairs. Maybe, just this once, they'd gotten here in time. Maybe the owner was still alive. Snapping his fingers, he got Jo's attention. Pointing up, she nodded and they began moving up the stairs. The master bedroom was the only door closed and without an exchange of words, they both moved to it. Nodding to her, she turned the doorknob and he rushed in. They had hunted a few shifters in their time, but seeing two identical people standing in the same room was still a little unnerving. The shifter turned to him and dropped the older woman she'd been holding. Hissing, she lunged at him. It moved too fast for him to take his shot at stabbing her, but she'd underestimated Jo. As it tackled Dean to the ground, Jo jumped on top of it and drove her silver knife in. The thing screeched and threw Jo off. She hit the wall and fell to the floor with a moan.

"JO!" he called, eyes flashing from the dying creature to the woman on the floor.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Just make sure it's dead!"

He stood up and drove his own knife into the heart, just to be extra sure. Finally, it stop screaming and thrashing. Once it was quiet, he could hear the faint sound of sirens.

"Dammit! C'mon Jo. Cops are almost here. We gotta go."

He rushed to her and eased her up. She had at least one cracked rib and her shoulder was out of joint. She'd suffered worse, but these were painful. As quickly and gently as he could, he got her downstairs and into the Impala. The Roadhouse wasn't too far from them. Ellen would be happy to see them. They made it around the corner just as the police cars turned down the road. That had been too close.

With every bump and pot hole they hit, Jo grabbed her side and moaned.

"Hang on. We're almost there."

"Almost where?" she asked through clenched teeth. "Bobby's place is a two day drive from here."

"Roadhouse isn't."

She rolled her eyes.

"She's gonna kill you."

Dean chuckled.

"Probably. But I got you out in one piece."

"Which she'll think about after she kills you."

He knew she was right. Ellen was still unhappy that they hunted together.

"Hey. If you can think of another place we can go, get you patched up, and rest for the night, I'm all ears."

She rested her head against the side of the car.

"Just try not to shoot her."

"You need to tell HER that."

Jo smiled and drifted into unconsciousness. As the sound of Baby's engine filled his ears, he thought about his life. Ellen would be angry, that much was true, but she wasn't exactly the same. She'd died about a year ago. When the Roadhouse had been rebuilt, they used some of the same materials from the original. Some part of her soul had been in that place, so when it came back, so did she. The resident ghost of the Roadhouse.

His eyes still burned with unshed tears when he thought about Bobby's. It wasn't his anymore, but it would never have a different name. Sam lived there now. It had taken years to collect the old man's extensive library from all over the country, but they'd done it. He took over Bobby's job with the library and the fake FBI phone calls. It suited him. He wasn't really ever built to be a hunter.

Things may not have been exactly perfect, but it worked. And this crazy life was his. No one else's. He got to share it with his family. That made everything worth it. His baby brother was living a relatively normal life doing what he was good at. Dean looked over to the sleeping woman beside him. He was the luckiest of all. He got to do the one thing he was good at with the one woman he loved more than his own life. What would he ever have done without her? Eyes back on the road, he pushed the pedal down harder.

Dean Winchester opened his eyes slowly. The motel room was still in pre-dawn darkness. Sam was still asleep in the bed next to his. Wiping at the moisture on his face, he sat up. He had that dream every year and he always felt the same when he woke from it. If only things could have been different. But they weren't. Slipping on a pair of jeans and throwing his boots on, he grabbed two bottles of beer from the mini fridge. They were somewhere in Kansas hunting some monster. He hardly cared today. Walking out to a wooden picnic table just outside the motel room, he sat down. Facing the sky, he waited for the sun to break through the clouds and darkness. Golden rays shot into the night sky, pushing it away. Opening both bottles, he left one sitting on the table. Tapping his own to it, he looked back up at the colors painting the horizon.

"Happy birthday, Jo."


End file.
